


Voodoo

by easilydistractedbyfanfic



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Canon Compliant, Dubious Consent, F/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Somnophilia, What If for S6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-23 19:34:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20013664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/easilydistractedbyfanfic/pseuds/easilydistractedbyfanfic
Summary: For the 2019 Flash Round of the 100 Kink MemePrompt: That snake venom may have saved Murphy's life but it keeps him trapped in nightmares until it wears off. Raven doesn't like watching him suffer and decides making him come might help. Could be Murphy wakes up during, could be he thinks it was a dream, could be Raven's sneaky little secret.





	Voodoo

I'm not the one who's so far away

When I feel the snake bite enter my veins

Never did I want to be here again

And I don't remember why I came

Hazing clouds rain on my head

Empty thoughts fill my ears

Find my shade by the moonlight

Why my thoughts aren't so clear

Demons dreaming 

breathe in, breathe in

I'm coming back again

~ Voodoo by Godsmack

She doesn’t let herself feel fear. Fear freezes you up, stops you from doing what needs to be done, what _has_ to be done. So many moments of her life have been spent fighting back the fear, swallowing it down so she can accomplish the things that only she can do. Fear is weakness and the moment you stop fighting, even when the odds are against you, that’s when you’re dead. Raven knows this to be true, feels it deep in her bones, but even so, there have been moments when she gave in to the weakness of fear. With Finn, tied to that pole and surrounded by Grounders. With Sinclair, when she realized he was sacrificing himself to save her and there was nothing she could do about it. Even for herself, in those moments when she forced her body not to rise up for air in the tank in Becca’s Lab, squeezing her eyes shut tight in order to drown. And she feels it now as well, looking over at Murphy’s body in the dirt, so frighteningly still. 

The leader of this place, Sanctum, says he can do something, can bring Murphy back as another man pulls a strange, ghoulish-looking snake from his bag. Raven watches intently, ready to spring up from the ground at any moment if they’re lying, but somehow, impossibly, it works, and though Murphy’s eyes don’t open, his chest rises and it’s like she can finally breathe again too. 

* * *

Hours later, he’s still not awake. They’ve been taken into some sort of nearby tavern, laying Murphy down on a hard table while he gasped and writhed until Raven demanded they find a quiet room and a soft bed for him. Russell and Cillian, they tell them that Murphy isn’t so much in physical pain but that he’s having nightmares, the venom and the poison from the seaweed warring inside him as the toxins mix with his blood. It will take time, they say, but he should be fine. 

_Fine_ , Raven scoffs, _like any of them have any idea what they’ve all been through_. 

They agree to take shifts, watching over Murphy until he wakes, but Raven is adamant with Bellamy and Emori that she’ll take the first watch because they need to rest too. Whatever the eclipse did to them all, their exhaustion is clearly visible and she doesn’t have a good feeling about this place, even before she learned about Shaw. She could feel it, something _off_ in the air when she’d taken that first step out of the Gagarin. So they need to be on alert, and Bellamy with a knife wound in his thigh and Emori beating herself up over stabbing Murphy isn’t going to help any of them. 

Everyone goes, led to various rooms to sleep or at least try to, and the girl with the kind eyes pulls the door closed behind her when she checks to see if Raven needs anything. She almost laughs, that this stranger offers her more empathy in that moment than she’s seen from her own family, but then, they’re all going through hell and she knows it, knows none of them are coping well, least of all her. But right now only one person needs her focus and he’s stretched out on the bed next to her, upper body bare and shiny with sweat. 

Abby had bandaged the new wound on Murphy’s chest, but there’s already blood seeping red into the edges. Along with the still-healing scars from the bullets he’d taken on Earth and some newly forming bruises on his collarbone and shoulders from where Bellamy held his head under the water, Murphy is battered in a way that she hasn’t seen for a long time. The memory of how he’d looked after the torture at the Grounder camp, all those years ago now, flickers back into her mind. It was before he’d shot her, and she’d felt sympathy for that lost-looking boy and hadn’t blamed him like some had for bringing the sickness into camp, even though she’d gotten ill as well. It feels like ten lifetimes have passed since then, but the images still play so clear on the backs of her eyelids. 

Raven strokes her fingers over the damp hair on his forehead, wishing she could do something to stop the shudders that ripple through him. She keeps up the mindless caress as she thinks back through all the things that have happened since she first met Murphy. There’s so few of them left now, the people with similar memories to hers, and her heart aches when the thought makes her picture Monty and Harper and how young they all were back then. Blinking rapidly to clear the tears from falling, she shakes her head, determined not to descend into heartbreak. She can’t do anything for them any more, not for Shaw either, but maybe she can do something for someone else she loves, still here with her in the present.

She starts talking then, low, about those first days she was on Earth, and everything she remembers that happened, especially the stories that involve him. He knows most of it already, after six years together on the Ring, but it’s easier with his eyes closed, for her to talk more about the thoughts and feelings she had then instead of the censored, sarcastic comments that she often shared instead. 

Stretching, she grasps the bowl of water that sits on the nightstand, wringing out the cloth soaking inside to gently wipe it over Murphy’s face, down his neck and over his arms and chest, carefully avoiding his injuries. Cillian had brought it in when they’d first settled into the room, telling her it might help, and as Raven continues with the cool massage, the tremors that ravage Murphy’s body seem to subside a little. He’s stripped down to his underwear due to his fever, so she keeps going, wetting the cloth again as she slides it down his thigh and over his knee, and then up again on the other side once she reaches his foot. 

When she’s finished rubbing the moist cloth over every bare part of him she can reach, she perches on the side of the bed, thoughtful. He’s stopped shaking so violently, but the choked sounds escaping his throat haven’t slowed at all. Whatever he’s dreaming, it’s awful, and from what she knows about his past that she didn’t see herself, there’s more than enough trauma to fuel a painfully unending nightmare. Raven wants so badly to stop it, to actually prevent his suffering for once, and it’s not even a fully-formed thought in her mind when she bends over his torso to kiss him, her hand darting down into the waistband of his underwear to graze over his cock. 

His lips are slack under hers, but so soft, and it’s only when a few moments pass and he doesn’t kiss her in return that she realizes what she’s doing, abruptly sitting back up although she doesn’t move her hand from where it’s curled around him. Murphy might not have been able to kiss her back, but his body isn’t having any trouble responding in other ways, as evidenced by the growing hardness beneath her palm. Raven spares just a perfunctory thought about whether what she’s doing is appropriate. He’s definitely calmer, the pained noises no longer loud, and his mouth is open slightly, gasping as her fingers slide up the erect length of him. It takes barely a second to make up her mind once she’s sure that he’s reacting in pleasure, and she gets up quickly, crossing the room to twist the lock on the door so they won’t be interrupted. There _is_ something she can do, so she’s going to do it. 

She kneels carefully on the bed between his knees, balancing her weight mostly on her good leg in order to pull his underwear down his hips. When his cock slips free from its constraints she takes her time looking at it, her pulse starting to race with what she sees. It’s been a very, very long time since she’s done this, with Finn back on the Ark before he’d even been sent to the Sky Box, but she’s eager for it all of a sudden, ducking her head to swipe her tongue from the thicker base up to his tip in a long lick. 

Cupping his balls in her hand, Raven presses closer, wrapping her lips over the head of his penis and slowly sinking down, sucking more of him into her mouth as she gets used to the feel and taste. He’s so hot against her tongue, salty and solid, and her fingers and wet throat are clearly affecting him as a needy whine escapes his lips as his hips twist, seeking more of her own heat. She takes her time, exploring every inch of him to satisfy the curiosity she’ll never admit to, but knows full well she’s had for years. The rhythm comes back to her and she moves contentedly to it, up, up with a little twist of her head and then down, down, swallowing more of his shaft each time along with soaking more of her panties. 

Her eyes watch Murphy’s face attentively from under her lashes, wanting him not just to enjoy this like she is but to see for certain that his mind has quieted. She wonders if he’ll dream of this, of his throbbing, aching cock thrusting into a wet and welcoming mouth, or if he’ll just experience a reprieve from the nightmares. Either way, she’s satisfied that his body is calmer, his breathing rapid but from sexual excitement rather than his own dreadful demons. When his fingers scrabble against the blanket restlessly, she grins around the mouthful that will have her jaw sore tomorrow. 

What she’s doing is plainly working, making her incredibly turned on in the process too. The head of Murphy’s cock starts to hit the back of her throat as he trembles beneath her, straining under the smooth glide of her lips and tug of her fingers, so she works him harder, rougher with her tongue until his balls tighten and his dick starts to twitch just moments before spurt after spurt of warm come spills into her waiting mouth. Raven’s cheeks hollow as she swallows and sucks, and she shouldn’t be surprised at how much she likes this feeling of power, not when her own juices have made her thighs slippery with want. But the low growl that’s wrung out of Murphy when he comes _gets_ to her, makes her cunt flutter around nothing until she reaches into her own pants and pushes two fingers urgently against her clit, expertly aware of just what she needs in order to find her own release. 

Raven comes with his dick still hard between her lips, her tongue swirling around to lick up every drop of evidence from his orgasm. Her forehead drops to his thigh when she lets him slip from her mouth, her breathing harsh and her own body quivering from the force of her climax. Her fingers brush softly along his sensitized skin until she feels capable of moving again, and she gently pulls his underwear back up to cover him after making sure she's licked him clean. 

She scoots out from between his thighs, back up to sit on the edge of the bed, straightening her own waistband and smoothing her hair as she goes. Gently sweeping her hand across his forehead, maybe she's imagining it but he feels cooler to her touch now. Murphy looks like he’s sleeping peacefully finally, body no longer writhing and shaking, but relaxed and serene. It’s exactly what she wanted, what she’d hoped she could somehow do for him, but when she leans down to place a last affectionate kiss onto his lips before collapsing back onto the chair beside him to wait for Bellamy to relieve her, she knows she’s taken some of his turmoil into herself. 

Her own dreams will not be tranquil any night soon. 

* * *

Murphy bolts upright with a rush of adrenaline, startling Emori and Abby who are nearby. His heart is racing, eyes frantic as he takes in the unfamiliar surroundings. It’s quiet enough that his breathing sounds harsh, excessively loud in the space and it takes Emori long moments to get him to settle down. He tells her he’s going to hell but doesn’t say the things he saw, doesn’t want to speak them into existence any more than they already are inside him. It’s not until after he has a few drinks that he feels even the slightest bit in control again, and pieces of what happened start to coalesce into a solid story in his brain. He’d been bitten by a snake, died and been brought back to life, then Raven and Bellamy had taken turns sitting with him until he’d been carried downstairs again so Emori could keep watch, staying aware of what was going on since the others had left. They’d gone back to the ship for reasons he’s unsure of but the weight of his own concerns prevent him from asking many questions. 

He wants to forget but the alcohol doesn’t stop the scenes in his head, only dulls them, and there’s something… Something that feels just out of his grasp and nags at him until he sees her, making an effort to grin for her benefit, and then it comes to him in a rush. He hadn’t had _only_ visions of despair and punishment during that seemingly endless nightmare, and the awareness crystallizes within him as snippets of the dream return. 

_She’d_ talked to him, for a long while maybe, in hushed whispers as her hands gently caressed his body. It had felt real, even though he’d forgotten it at first, but it couldn’t have been, because the talking had turned into something else entirely, and he can feel his body getting hard at just the wispy fragments of the erotic dream. It teases at the edge of his memory, waiting for him to perfectly remember it, drifting out of his grasp the moment he thinks he knows what it was. It was about _her_ though, he knew that much, and part of him wants to slam the lid on the subject to keep himself sane, to not even try to hold on to a memory-that-wasn’t, but something stops him. The way she moves her mouth as he stares while she talks to their friends, something feels...No, it’s only gone again. 

  
For now, it’s enough to know that somehow she _was_ there with him, for a little while at least, and with her came a reprieve. But that had long been the way of it between them, and whether he fully remembers this latest in a long series of alluring dreams or not, another one will come. They always do.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the last fill I did for the KM this round, but there are one or two other prompts I never got to that intrigued me... so I guess you never know! In the meantime, this is story #24. Thank you to everyone who continues to read, kudos & comment!


End file.
